Concrete Jungle
by moonsceptre
Summary: Modern AU. Mental health. Anger issues. Anxiety. Depression. Isolation. Doesn't help when your fellow college students are being killed off by an unknown cloaked figure. {EreMika;LeviPet;etc} Warnings: Blood, gore, sex, violence and self harm in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**My first attempt at an on-going SNK 'fic. Please give me constructive criticism in anything I could change/improve on, just don't be mean. c:**

**This is a story about a set of murders occurring around the same area and such... well, I won't spoil anything but it'll have a wide cast of modernised SNK characters, as well as touched-up back stories etc. Enjoy. Don't forget to review!**

* * *

_Tap...tap...tap...tap.. .tap...TAP TAP TAP TAP TAP..._

_"Stay away! Don't come any closer!" _

_TAP, TAP, TAP, TAP_

_A figure in a hooded cloak chased after Thomas Wagner, local student at Sina College. _

_"Stop! PLEASE!"_

_Thomas kept running, desperate to lose this mad man. Although Thomas was somewhat an average height for a guy, he noted that this thing chasing him was incredibly short, but incredibly fast. So fast, and so sneaky, they managed to back him into a dead end among the dark city's alleyways. Thomas cried, smashing his fists against the slippery, dark bricks that blocked his path to safety. The street lights began to flicker as the rain hardened down on the cloaked figure, its silhouette closing in on the fallen Thomas who was now on the ground, screaming in terror._

_"NO NO NO NO! PLEASE!"_

_The cloaked figure raised an object into the sky, and with one more flicker from a street light, Thomas saw the glint of the knife._

* * *

{TV in the background} **"Local murders have been occuring with **_**still **_**no suspects as to who the potential killer - or **_**killers **_**- are. Sources say that all victims were from Sina College..."**

"Eren! Get down here, you're going to be late for college!"

Eren rubbed his sleepy eyes, rising from the nest of blankets on the floor. He looked around dazed for a few seconds, the sleepiness wearing off, before he realised he'd rolled off the mattress and onto the floor during the night yet again. It wasn't hard to, considering his bed was literally JUST a mattress for the time being.

His parents had split up a few years ago and they were currently in the middle of moving into a new home to get further away from where Eren's father was living. Or rather, so that his mother Carla could get away. She was still bitter over the break up. In result, not all of their furniture had arrived and Eren was forced to camp out on his mattress.

"Eren, stop sleeping in so late! Your _father's _here to pick you up." He heard his mother call from down the stairs. The sneer in her voice as she uttered the word "father" made his eyes roll. He really didn't want any more lifts to college from his dad. Not because he held a grudge against him like Carla did, but purely because it was way too embarrassing. And if you saw his dad, then you'd know exactly why...

The teen hoisted himself up from the floor and threw on some clothes before making his way downstairs to be greeted with a chaste kiss on the cheek from his irratable mother. She pinched his ear teasingly before making her way to the back of the house where the smell of clean clothes drifted under his noes. Eren threw his backpack over his right shoulder and opened the front door, taking a deep breath. First day back at college. No need to be nervous. You're no longer a first year, it's cool. But no matter how much prep talk he gave himself, nothing could help with what he was _really _preparing himself for.

"See you later!"

He slammed the door shut, turning around with anxiously grit teeth.

There, parked up in front of his house sat a light blue van, windows rolled up and fogged with smoke, except for the one closest, the glass rolled down just a crack which allowed a catchy reggae tune to escape and remind Eren just who was in front of him. He walked over to the dodgy van, swinging open the passenger door.

Instantly, the brunette teen was greeted with a fit of coughs as wofts of smoke pooled out of the vehicle, Bob Marley's voice now singing a whole lot louder and cheerful. Eren waved his arm against the smoke as he climbed into the van, trying his best to ignore the strong stench of marijuana. He practically fell into the worn-in carseat, the leather slowly peeling back, but it was unnaturally warm in there and sheltered him from the crisp Autumn air outside, so Eren happily shut himself into the hippie van. Reggae still blared from the speakers, he noticed.

"Ereeen! Quick man, we're gonna be late~"

Eren grit his teeth, glancing over to his father, Grisha, who was kicking the old peace mobile into action, a spliff hanging out of his mouth. His glasses were lazily hanging off the bridge of his nose, two perfectly round spectacles; his dark brown hair was tied back into a messy low pony tail, tangled dreads laced down his back and shoulders, mixing with the floral pattern on his Hawaiian shirt. Eren snorted, looking back at the road.

_SMACK_

"OW! What the frick!?" the teen's hand swung up to push the hard object that had fallen onto his head away, shoving it into the cluttered backseats. "Dad, why do you have a surfboard in the back!? Scratch that - why is all this shit stuffed back here?"

"Woahhh, son, no use of the devil's language in here," he held up his two fingers creating a V sign. "They're all just... necessities, y'know? The surfboard's for this Thursday, though. Me an' the buddies are going to Miami,"

Eren leaned over to his car door, slumping his head against the window. He wished he hadn't asked; his dad's voice was slow and draining from all the drugs he'd been taking since he decided to up and leave Eren and Carla for this new tree-hugger lifestyle. The sudden leave and lack of interaction with his father didn't do well for either of them. Carla now suffered depression - she was always angry and irritable and rarely wanted Eren around, who in result developed anger issues that got so bad at times his mother had to sign him up for a weekly group counselling session at his college.

And if it wasn't for those counselling sessions, Eren wouldn't have met his two best friends, Armin and Mikasa.

His head snapped up.

"Thursday!?"

"Yeah, we-"

"But you said you were gonna take Armin and I to that Hallowe'en party on Thursday..."

As if on cue the van parked up outside the college. Eren looked in disbelief at his father for a few moments before looking way, shaking his head. It was to be expected, cancelling plans and letting his own son down once again. He pushed the door open and climbed out, attempting to hold back the stinging tears that began to bubble in his eyes.

"Eren, wait..." Grisha called.

"Forget it,"

He slammed the door shut, slinging his backpack over one shoulder. He could hear the van speed off from behind without turning back to look. Eren violently scrubbed his eyes with his sleeve, trying to rid the angry tears that forced themselves out against his will. With all the hurt he had in him, Eren swung out, punching a tree. Breathe in. Breathe out.

_Why..._

"Aw look, guys, Eren's sulking again,"

A shadow was suddenly cast over Eren from behind. He turned around wearily and looked up, his eyebrows furrowed now with annoyance at the pack of buttholes that stood before him. Jean, who lead the gang; Marco, Connie and Sasha.

"What's it over this time, Jaeger?" asked Jean with his arms crossed over his chest, a pressing smirk on his face.

Eren gritted his teeth. "None of your business, Jean."

Jean wiped his smirk, closing in on Eren. "What did you just say to me?"

Eren pushed back, his forehead colliding with Jean's so the two were head-to-head, teeth grit. "I said it's none of your business. Now keep your horse face away from me,"

Jean tightened his fist. "You-"

"Stop it."

The pair looked up at the source of the voice. A female stood, a red scarf loosely wrapped around her neck and short, jet black hair glossed over her porcelain skin. She pressed herself in between the two, pushing them away from each other and held Eren tightly by the neck of his shirt. Her sky eyes pierced over at Jean like two daggers.

"Leave him alone." She warned, her eyes were low and intimidating, despite her feminine voice.

"M-Mikasa..." Jean trembled, looking back. The other three friends had already long stepped back. Lucky for Eren, Jean was irrevocably in love with Mikasa, making his heart skip three beats and a half. He shook his head from his loved up daze, glaring at Eren. "You're lucky your girlfriend was around this time, punk. Watch your back," with that, he and the others stepped off.

Eren clenched his fists.

Another set of reasons for today to turn out so shitty.


	2. Chapter 2

**I tried to make this chapter a little better than the first. I'm sorry about OOc Armin, I love him but I am absolutely terrible at portraying him, especially in AUs! Please forgive. Leave a review, please. :)**

* * *

"Why did you have to go and do that, Mikasa!?" Eren spat as he power walked through the college halls, keeping an aggressively fast pace. He was hoping to get Mikasa off his tail, angry at her actions earlier.

Mikasa kept her eyes on the ground and a morbid expression plastered on her pale face. She lightly jogged after him through the wide, white halls, the strong bleach stench of cleaning fluids stinging her nostrils. Mikasa understood perfectly why Eren was angry at her - he normally was when she stepped herself into one of his many fights. She wasn't normally fazed by his indifference towards her whenever this happened, as he'd forget about it and forgive her literally within minutes. What she didn't understand was why he'd been running from her all morning. Eren always had a knack for getting into tumbles with Jean, so what made today any different?

"Eren, wait," they came to a stop when Eren reached a set of faded cream lockers, pulling out a small key from his back pocket. "what's with you? You're never normally this pissed at me..." Eren ignored her for a moment, swinging open his locker with force and shoving his backpack inside. He slammed it shut, making Mikasa jump.

"Look, just fuck off, I'm not in the mood."

"Then tell me why!" she demanded, gripping her messenger bag tightly. After a short silence, she continued, her voice toned down into a hush as she looked left and right briefly. "We have counselling at 1 today. If something's triggered you, at least talk about it then. You know it's because I care. We all do." Her grey-blue eyes flickered with pain suddenly - a pain which only few understood - which Eren understood.

And yet, it was not enough for him.

His eyebrows furrowed deeper, muttering a "Yeah, whatever," as his shoulder collided with hers, pushing straight past his female friend in the opposite direction. Mikasa stood there for a few moments longer, her mind spiraling into a blank void of heartache and sour feelings. Her eyes were low and dry, staring at the floor, afraid to blink just in case the tears threatened to appear. Why was she not enough for him?

Eren of all people _knew _full well what Mikasa had been through in the past, just as she knew about his troubles. The only difference was that Mikasa cared. Mikasa never judged Eren. She never justified his actions, but she understood them. She just wanted him to feel happy; so as not to feel the tremendous amounts of pain her childhood had endured.

...

* * *

_Three chilling knocks rapped at the slick, red door, echoing through the large house and drowning out the giggles of children from inside; the heavy rain now picking up like sharp knives, targeting every dry spot._

_When the owner of the home finally opened the door, managing their way through the misbehaving scrambles of children below, they were greeted by a social worker, a suitcase - presumably full of paperwork - in his right hand, and a tiny, black haired girl in the other. Her hair slicked forward, causing her appearance to be unrecognisable, the long, soaked ends dripping down like endless sadness, pooling at her tiny feet._

_Her parents have been murdered, the social worker explains._

_The foster parent protests. There's too many children here already, she says. They promised no more._

_But she has no one, he replies. She witnessed their murders, he blurts out, and the other children inside the home stare in horror._

_Mikasa feels like holding her ears. _

_She already saw it._

_She witnessed it._

_She was there._

_Why was it that, even when she was taken away from the pain and nightmares, even then, she was still to be reminded? To re-live the memories, as if they weren't allowed to be forgotten. Her heart longed for protection; to feel her mother's warm arms around her once again, whispering in her ear that everything would be all right; to feel her father's strong hold against her shoulder again, the security she felt when he'd pull her into his side and smile lovingly at his daughter. And now they're gone._

_The owner of the foster home signs a few papers, and now Mikasa is left alone, the social worker bidding her a goodbye. The foster parent leads her to a box room - the only room spair. It is small and cold and the blanket on the bed is incredibly thin, planted beneath the window so that the crestfallen moonlight fell upon her. The rain has slowed now, but still spits against the window violently due to the gusts of wind. _

_Mikasa is closed into the dark room, the door slammed shut. She wriggled her way into the thin cover on the bed, sitting up against the starchy pillow. Her night dress was still soaked through and through from the weather and although her soul was throbbing with pain, she could not cry. The tears never came, and they wouldn't for a long time._

_Her long, raven hair bled down over her chest and reminded Mikasa of her mother. Her mother's long, black hair that shone like stars in the night sky, and smelt like flowers on a pleasant afternoon in the dead of Spring. _

_Suddenly, Mikasa didn't like her own hair. It was... troublesome. Was that the appropriate word for how she felt? She pondered for a moment. Her parents were dead. That was a fact. Why did she feel so God damned emotionless? Why was she not crying?_

_That night, Mikasa didn't sleep. _

_..._

* * *

"Oh! Eren-"

The brunette carried on, striding past his blonde friend who'd just arrived at the college himself. Eren felt inwardly guilty for blaming Armin, as he hadn't done anything to aggravate him, but he was just not in the mood for talking to anyone today.

Armin paused, shocked at Eren's behaviour, however noticing the obvious annoyance on his friend's tanned face. Looking ahead, a puzzled expression painted into his sea-blue eyes, he noticed the silhouette of their third companion.

"Mikasa?" Armin began, making his way over to the taller girl. He placed a hand on her strong shouder, despite their height differences, his forehead still creased with confusion as to what had just happened. Now, Armin knew full well these two usually got into arguments an awful lot, but something really didn't feel right today. For one, Mikasa was never usually troubled by them, and right now she really seemed off; two, Eren hadn't even stopped to greet him. Something had happened, perhaps. "What's up with you guys? Did something happen?"

Mikasa blinked finally, inwardly releaved that she had fought the tears back once again, and she began to feel her hard-shell of aloofness return. She gave her head a light shake, face muscles relaxing. "Yeah," she chirped up, lowering her voice so as not to sound vulnerable. "Everything's fine."

But Armin of all people knew not to be fooled. However, knowing Mikasa, she would not want to be prodded for personal details. He decided to let it slide, for now. "Okay. As long as you're sure."

"Yup." She replied bluntly, over-exaggerating the 'p'. "So, how's first day back going for you?"

The pair had their messenger bags over one shoulder, gripping the strap loosely as they walked along the halls to their first lesson.

"It's pretty good. I got in a little late, though. Was feeling nervous about the new group counseller and wanted to meet her before-hand-"

"New group counseller? What happened to the old one?"

Armin sighed. "He was offered a job some place else, I believe. Seriously, don't worry, though. Our new one is incredibly kind. I really felt at peace talking to her,"

"Whatever... I guess we'll see later today,"

"Oh, Mikasa, that reminds me,"

"Yeah?"

They stopped outside the classroom. "Have you heard about all those murders happening recently?" His voice lowered to a hush. "Apparenty all the victims have been from _this _college..."

Mikasa raised an eyebrow. "That explains the hidden police cars I've been seeing parked around here. Freaking weird. I wonder who's got a grudge on Sina College students, huh?"

"I know... just the other day, Thomas Wagner from our old sociology class was found dead. I couldn't believe it when my Grandad told me,"

"Thomas? Jeez..."

"Yeah," Armin looked down sadly. "Hey. Stay safe, Mikasa, okay? And... I'm sure whatever's going on with you and Eren... well... I'm sure everything's going to be okay,"

Mikasa bit her lip, looking down at her friend with the same expressionless face she had kept up for years. She looked away, embarrassed. "Thanks, Armin."

Armin knew his friends just as well as they knew him. Because in counselling, they all learnt something special about each other: they all just wanted to be accepted.

...

* * *

_"Armin, why don't you tell the others why you're here?"_

_The short blonde boy sat up, awkwardly, eyeing the other students sat around him in a circle of chairs. They were not judging him, but it still felt strange being able to openly talk about why you just didn't feel okay. He thought about for a moment just telling the counsellor that he didn't feel comfortable talking just yet - but other pupils had done so, so surely he could, too!_

_"I-I'm here, because..." he stumbled over his words, a sweat trickling down his brow. "I suffer with social anxiety... it really gets in the way of important...um...sorry-"_

_"Take your time, dude,"_

_Armin looked down at the source of the reassuring voice. An olive skinned male looking up at him seriously, his emerald hues pushing Armin with confidence. "I-I... agh, when my mother died, my Grandad had to take me in. He's all I have now. And...sorry, I..." Armin felt a light weight on his left shoulder just then, looking over at the hand caused him to realise a few tears had escaped his eyes. His traced the pale hand with his wet eyes, looking up to see a girl with jet-black staring back. Her harsh, grey hues softened with comfort upon looking into his own, and he felt somewhat better. "Thanks," he smiled. _


End file.
